Silver Threads and Golden Needles
by Gertie Keddle
Summary: Post Hogwarts. Following a misunderstanding, Draco leaves Harry. Harry wants back together. Draco would do anything to make that happen. So what's stopping them?
1. The Fight

**Disclaimer**: The characters in this story do not belong to me but to JKR - I'm just having fun with them. Story's mine.

**Author's Notes: **This is a story I began before OotP and, while that doesn't affect any **major** plot points, Sirius is still alive in this story. I can't let him go.

Please review and let me know what you think.

* * *

"What are you doing?" Harry asked curiously.

Draco yelped, startled, and spun round to face Harry who was standing in the bedroom doorway, smiling that soft, special smile he reserved solely for Draco. "Harry!" Draco squeaked, the shirt he was holding slipping from his fingers and floating noiselessly to the floor. "I thought you were at Ron's."

"I was but then I came home. It's almost dinner time, you know." Harry stepped from the doorway into the room and stood in front of Draco.

"Really?" Draco said, surprised. "It's that late already?"

"Mmmm," Harry murmured as he stretched his arms around Draco and hugged him. He stiffened as he spotted the half filled suitcase Draco had been trying to conceal on the bed behind him and pulled away. "You're packing?" he asked, the smile vanishing from his face as he looked at Draco. "Why?"

"Um ..." Draco hadn't been prepared for this. He'd expected to be gone before Harry got home but time had gotten away from him.

"Are you leaving me?" Harry asked, incredulously. "No!" Draco said, almost hysterically. "I just ... have to go away for a little while, that's all. Just a week or two."

"Where?" Harry asked, fighting the wave of panic welling up inside of him and feeling the colour drain from his face.

Draco retrieved his shirt from the floor and twisted it in his hands nervously. "A family thing," he said quietly.

Harry sighed, rolling his eyes as he sank onto the bed. "Oh, God, not this again," he muttered as he buried his face in his hands.

"Harry, we're not married!" Draco shouted. "You know I can't tell you about this."

"The only reason we're not married is because we can't be!" Harry stood up from the bed and rounded on Draco angrily. "But we're as good as married. We've been together for ten years and living together for eight!"

Unsure what else to do or say, Draco resumed his packing. "You don't understand, Harry," he said softly, hurriedly brushing the back of his hand across his eyes to sopt the tears which were welling there from sliding down his cheeks. He hated fighting with Harry at any time but this looked to be shaping into a real doozy.

"Of course I don't bloody understand!" Harry said, angrily. "Because you won't tell me!"

Draco closed the suitcase and snapped the look shut. "Harry, please don't do this," he begged. "If I had my way, I wouldn't even go."

Harry grabbed Draco's hand as if he thought by just holding onto him, he could stop him from leaving. "Then don't go," he pleaded urgently.

This scene was exactly what Draco had wanted to avoid. He didn't want to hurt Harry but was duty bound to go. "It's just for two weeks," he said helplessly, his eyes pleading with Harry. Harry dropped Draco's hand and turned away.

"When were you planning to tell me you were going?" When Draco didn't answer, Harry spun around to look at him. "Were you at least going to leave a note?" he asked incredulously.

"Of course I was going to leave a note," Draco snapped. He sighed and reached out his hand to rest on Harry's arm. "Look, Harry-"

Harry shrugged Draco's hand away. "No, Draco, just go," he said, turning away towards the window.

"Harry, I didn't want it to be like this. I was trying to avoid it," Draco said, as he pointed his wand at his suitcase. He pushed the shrunken suitcase into his pocket.

"Just go, if you have to, Draco," Harry murmured, still not looking at him.

"Two weeks, Harry, I promise," Draco said. When Harry didn't answer, he Disapparated.

* * *

The house was dark and quiet when Draco returned home. It was after midnight and he assumed Harry was asleep. Although he was hungry, fatigue was taking over and he stumbled his way upstairs to bed. 

The trip hadn't been worth fighting with Harry about. He'd known it wouldn't be. When he was a kid, Draco got very excited about what he called Secret Malfoy Business, the name he'd given it adding to its general mysteriousness.

The truth, however, was far more mundane. It was just a stupid reunion of all the family members, the most pressing business being to tell each their present financial circumstances so the entire family fortune could be calculated. Stupid, really, but no Malfoy had ever missed a gathering and Draco, already on shaky ground with his family because of his relationship with Harry, wasn't going to be the first.

The location changed each time and only Malfoy family members and spouses knew where it would be. A rule never to be broken; the family had too many enemies the world over and a leak could be fatal.

The secrecy was putting too much strain on his relationship with Harry, though. He'd asked, even pleaded, with his family to allow him to tell Harry about it, to bring him along next time, but they were adamant. Draco wasn't married to Harry and so Harry wasn't to know anything. Lucius had been unable to stop himself from smiling gleefully.

Draco watched Harry sleep as he changed for bed. Harry looked so peaceful and happy when he was asleep. It was the sort of peace Harry never knew in his waking hours.

Draco slipped into bed and gently stroked Harry's hair. "I love you so much, Harry," he whispered.

Harry stirred and looked around sleepily. "Draco? Are you all right?"

Draco nodded. "Just tired."

Harry settled his head back onto his pillow. "Go to sleep, then."

Draco snuggled in against Harry's back and put his arm across him. He brushed a lock of hair away from Harry's face and tucked it behind his ear. "Are we OK, Harry?" he asked tentatively.

"Shh, Draco," Harry whispered, taking Draco's hand and holding it in his own. "I'm tired, too. Just sleep now."

Draco buried his face in Harry's neck and quickly fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

"You said a week or two but you were gone for three and a half!" Harry wasn't even trying not to shout. "And I didn't hear from you at all! No owl, nothing. Do you know how scared I was that something might've happened to you?" 

"I'm sorry," Draco said automatically, for what seemed like the hundredth time.

He was sitting at the kitchen table, elbows resting on the tabletop, head in his hands, while Harry paced around him. They'd had this same argument so many times over the past years it was almost funny. It wasn't even about Draco being gone longer than anticipated. Not really. It was more about him still doing whatever his family told him to. Stupid family, too. All because no one trusted anyone else. The entire family only met once every ten years, but those in Britain still gathered every couple of years for a few days. So they could all make sure that no one else was losing money or hiding it away. Because, whilst they could all do whaever they wished with their family's individual fortunes, in reality, it all belonged to all of them. And they guarded it jealously.

In some ways, Draco thought Harry was lucky not to have any family. He didn't have to worry about petty family rules and jealousy and distrust. Not that, from everything he'd heard about Harry's family, they would have been anything like the Malfoys anyway.

Harry had told him he'd seen his family for the only time in the Mirror of Erised back in first year and they'd all been smiling and happy together. Draco could honestly say that never, at any of their family reunions, did any of the Malfoys seem happy to be with each other.

Harry sighed and sat down heavily next to Draco, he, too, weary of the same argument yet again. "We can't live like this forever, Draco. I can't. Something's got to change."

The blood pounded in Draco's ears and he couldn't hear anything else Harry was saying although he knew he was still talking because he could see his lips moving. Harry's voice sounded so faint and far away. This was what he'd dreaded. Harry wanted to break up. Had said he couldn't live with him anymore. All because of his stupid fucking family!

Tears pricked his eyes and he blinked them away rapidly. He jumped up quickly from the table, knocking his chair over in his haste. He heard it crash to the floor but didn't stop. He just wanted to get away. If Harry wanted to break up, then Draco was going to leave now, on his own, before Harry kicked him out.

He ran up the stairs two at a time and into the bedroom, grabbing his as yet unpacked suitcase. Save him from packing again anyway. Get out of there quicker. He glanced at the framed photo of the two of them sitting on top of the dresser. Happy and smiling and in love. It seemed to mock him. He snatched it up and slipped it into the side pocket of his suitcase just before Harry burst into the room.

"Draco, what is it? What's wrong?" Harry asked anxiously.

"You want me to leave, Harry, so I'm leaving now," Draco snapped. He was trying to hold himself together – didn't want Harry to see him cry – and it was easier if he was snappish and nasty. But he had to leave quickly. The lump in his throat was getting harder to swallow.

"What? No!" Harry said in a panicky, shaky sort of voice. "Draco, you mis-"

"It's better this way," Draco said coldly. "We were stupid to think this could work. We're too different and you'll never understand anything about me and my family."

It couldn't have stung more if Draco had slapped him. "Go, then, if you want, you selfish prick," Harry said, his voice hard. "I know all I want to know about your family, Draco. And you. You think you're so different from the rest of them but you're not. You're nothing more than a spoilt, egotistical brat!"

Draco scoffed as he swept past Harry out of the room and down the stairs, desperately trying not to cry until he was out of the house. At the bottom of the stairs, he realised he didn't actually have to leave via the front door and quickly Disapparated.

* * *

Harry was left, stunned, standing in the middle of the bedroom. He didn't understand what had happened. Yes, he'd been angry but he felt he'd been right to be. Draco had been gone for three and a half weeks and he hadn't called and he hadn't owled and Harry had been worried. But when he'd calmed down, he'd told Draco he wasn't going to let it get to him anymore hadn't he? 

So what had gotten Draco so worked up that he'd left him?

They hardly ever fought anymore. Not big fights, anyway. Just silly little stuff that was inevitable when you lived with someone. Like when Draco left empty bottles in the fridge or when Harry dropped his wet towels on the floor. Or whose turn it was to clean the bathroom. Or what Sunday night movie they'd watch on telly. But on those occasions, one of them usually just gave in.

Had Draco given in this time? But if Draco had given in, why did Harry feel as if he'd lost?


	2. Meeting Again

**Disclaimer**: The characters in this story do not belong to me but to JKR - I'm just having fun with them. Story's mine.

**Author's Notes: **This is a story I began before OotP and, while that doesn't affect any **major** plot points, Sirius is still alive in this story. I can't let him go.

And, in case you haven't realised, this is SLASH. Don't bother reading if you don't like it - and, if you choose to, don't bother flaming for that reason. Flames for other reasons are fine.

Please review and let me know what you think.

* * *

"Have you heard from Draco?" Sirius asked as they ate their sundaes sitting at a table in the warm sunshine outside Fortescue's.

Harry shook his head. Spending Saturdays with Sirius had become even more enjoyable for Harry since Draco had left three months ago but Sirius' predictable questioning was becoming annoying. "Don't even know where he is," he answered.

Sirius swirled his spoon in his ice cream as he searched for his next words. "Harry, maybe ... well, Remus and I ... we were sort of thinking that ..."

Harry looked at his godfather curiously. Ever since he'd met him, Sirius had always been so sure of himself, confident about saying whatever he felt like and very economical with words. It was strange to hear him fumbling and stuttering now. "What, Sirius?"

"That maybe he's not coming back." Sirius rushed on. "And that you should probably move on. Not worth wasting your time and your life waiting for a stupid git like that."

Harry knew that Sirius was right. And Ron and Hermione, who'd both been telling him the same thing for the past month or so. But, whenever he thought about it, a voice inside his head always screamed '_No, he's got to come back!_'

Harry smiled at his godfather. "I know you're right but I'm just not ready yet."

"That's all right, Harry," Sirius said soothingly. "You don't have to be ready yet." He paused for a for a minute or so before continuing. "Just get out of the house and have some fun. You don't have to get involved in a deep and meaningful relationship if you don't want to. Just get out and live. _Have fun_."

Harry looked up, startled, and his spoon clattered to the table. "What, just sleep with someone?" he said, shocked. "Anyone, just for the hell of it?" He felt the heat rising in his cheeks and knew he was blushing madly.

Sirius laughed. "Harry, you're nearly 27. It's allowed. You need to relax a bit. You don't have to spend the rest of your life with the person you start dating when you were 16."

"My mum and dad did," Harry said quietly. _And I want to, too. I want to be with Draco forever._

"Yeah, well," said Sirius, "your mum and dad died young, too. Nothing to say they would've stayed together if they were still alive."

"What?" Harry said with surprise. It had never occurred to him before that his parents might not have stayed together had they lived. "From what I've heard, they were a perfect couple. Were they having problems or something?"

"No, Harry, that's not what I meant," Sirius reassured him. "I just think you have too idealistic an impression of them. They weren't perfect, Harry, and, whatsmore, even if they were, you don't have to be like them. You should just be yourself. Don't worry about what other people think."

Harry was quiet. He and Sirius had never had a discussion like this before. They were each extremely protective of the other and of their relationship. The two of them and Remus had a familial relationship but, not having known each other until Harry was 13 years old, Sirius and Harry, in particular, were still a little unsure of how they actually fit together. Father and son? Brothers? Friends? Neither of them was willing to jeopardise the relationship so, generally, they steered clear of any subjects that were too personal. This was the sort of discussion Harry was more likely to have with Remus. In fact, Remus had probably put Sirius up to it.

Sirius was off again. "Look, Harry, I don't want to tell you how to live your life or anything like that. I just want you to be happy." Sirius paused and looked away from Harry before continuing. "If there's one thing being in Azkaban taught me, it's that you can't take anything for granted. So I try to live as if I'm going to die tomorrow."

Harry regarded his godfather with wide eyes. Rarely did Sirius mention Azkaban at all to him. Harry wanted to reach over and squeeze Sirius' hand, offer support, but, apart from a few manly hugs and some backslapping, they'd never really touched. When Sirius looked back at him, Harry settled for a smile. "I'll try, Sirius, I promise."

"Good." Sirius grinned, seeming eager to get the heart to heart over with and back onto their usual jokey, comfortable footing. "A good casual fling or two or three'll be good for you," he said. "You've only ever been with Draco."

Harry blushed again. Sirius laughed. "Anyway, I've got to go. Remus and I are going out for dinner and I'd better go home and shower first." He stood and waved to Harry as he Disapparated.

* * *

Harry sighed as he stood up and wandered back through Diagon Alley to the Leaky Cauldron. Saturday night again and Harry's only plans involved watching telly at home alone. Sirius was right; he did need to meet some new people, do new things. Start living again. If Draco came back again at some point, Harry'd still be there – probably – but he wasn't gong to sit around waiting anymore.

He pushed open the door to the pub and ordered a drink at the bar. He sat on a barstool and swivelled around. At 4.30 pm, the pub was half full. It was that time between lunch and dinner when the patrons were either those having a drink after shopping in the Alley and before going home or those that were still enjoying a drink after a leisurely lunch.

Harry froze as his eyes met familiar grey ones. Draco was sitting at a table in the back corner with a man who looked about 20. They obviously knew each other well from the way Draco was looking at him now. He saw Draco drop the other man's hand as he turned his gaze back to Harry.

The fog in Harry's brain cleared enough to enable him to move. He set his drink back on the bar and hurried out the back door of the pub. He tapped the bricks with his wand and waited for them to move to allow him back into the throng of people in Diagon Alley. Draco had obviously moved on but Harry didn't want to witness it. He was anxious to get as far away from him as possible as quickly as possible.

Just as the bricks finished re-arranging themselves, however, he heard Draco's voice from behind him.

"Harry, wait!" Draco called.

Harry stopped and turned to look fearfully at Draco. "What do you want?" he asked coldly.

Draco flinched visibly. "How are you?" Draco asked formally.

"All right," Harry replied. He tilted his head towards the pub. "Obviously you're OK."

"I've been living here," Draco said, answering Harry's unasked question.

"With him?" Harry waved his arm in the direction of the pub.

"Scott." Draco stared at the ground, rubbing it with his foot. "Yes," he said quietly. He felt his anger rising when he looked up and saw Harry's injured expression. "Well, you're the one who wanted to break up!"

"I did not!" Harry cried, hotly. "You're such a prima donna, Draco. You only heard what you wanted to hear so you could make yourself a martyr! Well, I'm not letting you. This is your fault, not mine!"

Draco stared at Harry openmouthed. "You're the one who said we shouldn't live together anymore!"

"I did not!" Harry yelled. "I said I didn't want to live with the fighting anymore and that I wasn't going to ask you about your 'family things' anymore."

Draco's expression clearly reflected his shock. "Didn't hear that bit, did you, Draco?" Harry added.

"Too busy trying to be the victim to hear that, weren't you!. Learn that from your fucked up family, too, did you?" Harry couldn't help himself. It'd hurt when he'd seen Draco with the man in the pub and all he wanted to do was lash out and hurt Draco back with all the rage and pent up emotions of the last three months.

Draco stared at Harry wide eyed. Harry was right – he hadn't heard the rest of what Harry had said. Hadn't stayed to listen. He could remember Harry saying something but Draco had assumed he had been telling him he didn't want to be with him anymore. Apparently, he'd been wrong. Suddenly, he felt like he'd made a huge mistake.

"Didn't take you long to find someone else, did it?" Harry hissed.

Draco snapped his attention back to Harry and looked at him pleadingly. "Harry, I'm not strong like you. I can't be alone. You know that."

Harry rolled his eyes and started to turn away.

Draco grabbed his arm and forced him to stop. "No, Harry, wait!" Draco cried. "I love you, Harry. Scott's not that important to me. He's just someone to be with."

"I don't know whether that makes it better or worse," Harry spat.

"Harry, please, I-". Draco broke off when he saw Harry's attention shift to something behind him.

Harry's eyes returned to Draco and he shook Draco's hand off his arm. "Your boyfriend wants you." Draco turned quickly.

"Draco, if we're going to that play tonight, you need to get ready," Scott said uncertainly.

Draco turned around again but Harry had gone.

"I'm coming," he said and walked past Scott into the pub.


	3. War and Peace

**Disclaimer**: The characters in this story do not belong to me but to JKR - I'm just having fun with them. Story's mine.

**Author's Notes**: This is a story I began before OotP and, while that doesn't affect any major plot points, Sirius is still alive in this story. I can't let him go. In case you haven't noticed, this is SLASH. If you don't like it, don't read it but, if you do, DON'T bother flaming me for that reason. Feel free to flame me for anything else, though.

Please review and let me know what you think.

* * *

Harry tried to ignore the knocking on the door but whoever it was refused to go away. He'd told Sirius he couldn't see him today because he was sick. It was probably him. Harry sighed and switched off the television as he got up to go to the door, scratching his unshaven face. He hadn't bothered to shave, or even shower, since he'd seen Draco last week so at least Sirius should believe he was ill. And he was, sort of. Hungover, at least, anyway.

He reached for the doorknob and hesitated. He hadn't ventured out of the house, or even opened the blinds, in the past week either and was dreading opening the door, knowing the sunlight would be painful to his eyes. He gritted his teeth and wrenched the door open.

"What do _you_ want?" he asked sourly.

"Harry, I don't want to fight with you," Draco said. "I just want to talk."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Well, I don't really want to talk to you but I suppose I'm not going to have a choice. You'll do whatever you want anyway." Harry walked back to the lounge room. Draco shut the door and followed him.

"Look, I know I hurt you," Draco said as he opened the blinds and then the windows to freshen the foul air, "but I've been thinking about everything since I saw you last week. You were right, you know. I didn't listen to you properly that day I left."

"No fucking kidding," Harry muttered sarcastically. "What a revelation."

Draco ignored him. "If I had, we wouldn't be in this mess."

Harry looked at him sardonically and farted loudly.

Draco's eyes narrowed. "We'd be in a different mess."

Harry snorted. "Enlighten me, oh, wise one."

"Harry, stop it," Draco said. "This isn't helping."

"Who? You?" Harry said. "It's doing wonders for me."

"Right, that's it!" Draco drew his wand and waved it in the air, muttering under his breath. Then he picked Harry up and threw him over his shoulder, fireman style, and carried him up the stairs. Draco had turned on the shower in the bedroom ensuite with his wand and he opened the shower door and dumped Harry in, fully clothed. He shut the door and leaned back against it.

"Hey!" Harry shouted.

Draco held up his hand and showed Harry he was holding both their wands. "You are going to listen to me, Harry."

Harry kicked the door and Draco muttered a locking spell. " And use the soap. You stink! When you've finished, I'll give you a razor so you can shave as well."

Harry glared at Draco through the glass door but had to admit that he did feel better standing under the hot water – not that he'd tell Draco – and he stripped off his sodden clothes. He soaped and rinsed himself three times and then asked Draco for his razor. Once he'd finished shaving, he let the hot water sluice over his body for several minutes, relishing the warmth and forgotten feeling of cleanliness, before turning the taps off. Draco unlocked the door and wrapped a thick towel around him.

"Feel better?" Draco asked softly.

Harry nodded as he dried himself, forgetting his promise to himself of a few minutes ago not to admit to Draco that the shower had felt good. He wasn't entirely sure whether it was the shower and shave or Draco taking care of him that made him feel better but, either way, he did. He was, however, suddenly aware that he was standing in the middle of the bathroom naked whilst Draco was fully clothed and he felt self conscious. "Would you please pass me some clothes?"

"I ordered some Chinese food while you were in the shower," Draco said, handing Harry a T-shirt and jeans. "It should be here soon."

Harry nodded gratefully as he slipped the T-shirt over his head and pulled on his jeans. He realised with a start that it'd been several days since he'd eaten anything like a real meal and he was starving.

They heard a knock on the door as they made their way down the stairs. "You get the door," Draco said, "and I'll set the table."

As they headed in opposite directions, Harry felt himself slip back into the easy banter that was so familiar between the two of them. "Oh, great," he called over his shoulder. "You come here, throw me in the shower, order food and then expect me to pay for it!"

Draco laughed. If felt so easy between them in this house. "I already paid for it on my credit card," he shouted.

They'd almost finished all the food before Harry ventured to ask what he'd wanted to know since Draco had walked in the house. "Does ... your boyfriend know you're here?"

"We broke up that night when I saw you," Draco answered, putting down his chopsticks. He took a deep breath. "I've rented a flat on my own," he said, a touch of pride in his voice.

"Really?" Harry's eyes lit up for a brief moment then clouded over again. "A whole week. Wow."

"It's a big step for me, Harry," Draco chided gently. "I've got to start somewhere."

Harry nodded understandingly. "But why didn't you just come straight back here?"

Draco half smiled. "Well, I wasn't sure you'd want me to," he said. He leaned across the table and gripped both of Harry's hands in his own. "And, also, there's a lot else wrong with our relationship that we need to fix, first."

"No, there's not," Harry said earnestly. "We only ever really fight about your family. I told you, I won't ask you about it again until you're ready to tell me. Everything else is fine!" he insisted.

Draco squeezed his hands so hard Harry thought they might actually break. "Believe me, Harry, I'm determined to do everything I can to get you back," Draco said. "But this time it's got to be right."

Harry frowned. "I don't know what you mean," he said. Actually, he didn't have a clue what Draco was on about.

"We never even dated, Harry," Draco said. "We moved in here together as soon as we left school and at school we were so insulated. Our relationship has existed almost entirely inside these walls. It's not healthy."

"What're you on about?" Harry asked, uncertainly, not sure this conversation was going in a direction he liked.

"I don't think we should live together," Draco said quietly. "Not right now, anyway."

"Why not?" The shower and food had helped Harry's hangover a little but his brain was still a bit foggy and he felt lethargic and stupid.

"I want to live by myself for a while, Harry," Draco replied. "I need to." When Harry didn't reply, he added, hopefully, "We could still date."

Harry's head jerked up suddenly and he stared at Draco. "Sirius thinks I should date other people," he spat nervously.

_'No way! Tell him no!'_ screamed a voice inside Draco's head. Instead, he just shrugged. "If you want," he said, coolly, trying to keep his voice steady.

Harry stood up quickly and moved around the table, stopping right next to Draco and leaning in as close as possible, his jaw hardened angrily. Surprised, and a little frightened by the menacing look on Harry's face, Draco leaned back away from Harry as far as the seat back would allow.

"What I want," Harry hissed, angrily, "is for you to get your stuff and come back home. _Right now!_"

Draco winced. "I can't, Harry. I'm sorry, I just can't.

* * *


End file.
